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AS THOUGHT IS LED 



As Thought Is Led 



LYRICS AND SONNETS 



BY 



ALICIA K. VAN BUREN 




BOSTON 

RICHARD G. BADGER 

The Gorham Press 

1904 



Copyright 1904 by Alicia K. Van Buren. 
All Rights Reserved 






DlC 27 J 904 
„ Copyriffni 

**• XXC, No; 
; /C / *,* * 

COPY Q. 



T§ 3 



S4* 






Printed at 

The Gorham Press 

Boston, U. S. A. 



CONTENTS 

Page. 

As Thought is Led 7 

The Neighboring Firesides 8 

Longing 9 

Cherokee Roses 10 

The World is Strange 11 

Love's Inconsistency 12 

Repression 13 

The Seed 14 

To-day and Tomorrow 15 

The Only Way 16 

Reconciled 17 

Hypnosis 18 

Deferred 19 

Promptings 20 

Unconscious Worth 21 

Mother Mary 22 

Rest 23 

The Beech Tree 24 

5 



Page. 

Unchanged 25 

A Memory 26 

Hereafter 27 

Inspiration 28 

Euthanasia 29 

Telepathy 30 

An Impression *. 31 

ToM. L. K 32 

Action . . 33 

When to Come Back 34 

Because I Love You So 36 

Mother and Child 37 

These April Days 38 

The Moon-Beam Bridge 39 

The Old School-House 40 

Fading Flowers 42 

In Florida 43 

November 44 

My Violin 46 

Spring 47 

Memory 48 

6 



AS THOUGHT IS LED 

A dewy morning with unclouded skies ! 

Nothing I crave the kindly earth denies. 

Above, below, around, in all I see, 

A sense of beauty breathes. The old beech tree 

Is gently swaying in the breeze, and low 

And soft its leaves are whispering as though 

They feared to break my rest with too much 

sound — 
Their shadows too seem whispering on the ground. 
The birds have ceased to sing and all is still 
As slumberland may be, and down the hill, 
Though glancing right and left, naught holds my 

eye 
Save one slow-flitting white-winged butterfly. 
Quite idly do I watch it as it speeds, 
Now here, now there, as though each flower it 

needs 
Must try — the iron weed, the golden-rod, 
And milk-weed with its bursting silky pod. 
Then down the hill it flies, at last to light 
For one brief moment on the little gate. 
Thou little gate ! perhaps this very night 
Thou 'It open wide for one — dear love ! — I wait. 



THE NEIGHBORING FIRESIDES 

A happy man and woman sat beside 

Their fire. Between them was a small chest 

filled 
With garments soft and white; and gladness 
thrilled 
Their hearts as piece by piece they fondly eyed 
Each dainty thing, for each but served to guide 
Their thoughts to one whose coming needs must 

build 
New chambers in their house of love, and gild 
Their lives with self- forgetting joy and pride. 

Alone and poor, beside another fire, 

Another sat. Her thoughts were those that stir 
The soul to everlasting griefs and wild 
Despair — death was her eager one desire. 
And soon death came, but not, alas, for her. 
He took the happy mother and her child. 



LONGING 

O great-souled makers of immortal songs, 
I love you well. To you what peace I owe ! 
How many griefs of mine have you allayed ! 
And yet to-day my eager spirit longs 
To utter its own cry of joy or woe 

In some small song that I myself have made. 

And so, you master singers, great and good, 

You fail me now. Though oft in you I've found 
Relief, to-day you leave me sad and lone, 
And like to one who, craving motherhood, 
And seeing many childish faces round, 

Enjoys them not — through longing for her 
own. 



CHEROKEE ROSES 

Before my door are roses everywhere, 
But none O Cherokee ! are fair as thine. 
So thick upon thy breast the white blooms shine 

They seem but one great snowy blossom rare ; 

And yet, two months ago, as I stood there 
Beneath the fir round which thy tendrils twine, 
I dreamed not that thy leafless straggling vine 

Would some day all this vestal beauty wear. 

And thou, my friend, who seemed so commonplace 
When first I looked into thy clear true eyes, 

Thou too didst own an unseen inner grace 
Which, even more than beauty, beautifies. 

I never dreamed thy kindly rugged face 

Could ever look so good and brave and wise. 



10 



THE WORLD IS STRANGE 

The world is strange : below the hill 

I hear an unknown call ; 
One cry, and then the air is still 

Again — and that is all. 

A stroller walks along the road, 

A horseman gallops by : 
I know them not, nor their abode, 

Nor where they go, nor why. 

This once, perhaps, they cross my days 

And never any more ; 
And they and I go separate ways, 

The ways we went before. 

They touch my life this once, and bring 

So very little change, 
It seems a sad unmeaning thing. 

Ah me, the world is strange ! 



ii 



LOVE'S INCONSISTENCY 

One day when thou wert ill and spent with pain, 

I sat beside thy crib and tried in vain 

To make thee sleep. When murmured lullabies 

And soothing touch at last had closed thine eyes, 

I scarcely stirred, all fearful lest I make 

A sound, and thou to suffering should'st wake. 

Again, my darling child, art thou asleep. 
All day, beside thy little grave, I weep. 
From pain and sorrow ever art thou free ; 
And yet — Oh, how I long to waken thee ! 



12 



REPRESSION 

Of much repression be not vain, 

Nor think it always best : 
Those feelings causing needless pain 

Are better unexpressed ; 
But if we may, to some pale cheek, 

A smile by kind words win, 
And we those words refuse to speak, 

Then is repression sin. 



13 



THE SEED 

God sows the selfsame truth in every heart — 
A seed from which at birth a plant doth start; 
But every plant a different blossom shows 
According to the soil wherein it grows. 

Condemn no creed ! Dig deep beneath the sod 
And at the root thou'lt find the truth of God. 



14 



TO-DAY AND TOMORROW 

To-day we pray for death, 
Tomorrow pray for life, 

And almost every breath 
Is drawn in strife. 

If death came when we willed 

No grave would be unfilled ; 

If life came when we prayed 
No grave be made. 



i5 



THE ONLY WAY 

I lost my way when in the woods one night 

And took a path I ne'er before had known. 

A storm was threatening, and it had grown 
Quite dark, and moon and stars were hid from 

sight. 
Then round my heart a numbing sense of fright 

Pressed hard — I seemed so utterly alone ! 

Till through the gloom a flash of lightning shone 
And I beheld the homeward path aright. 

And so, dear love, whenever pain or care 
Or disappointment darken any day; 

When hope is almost vanquished by despair, 
And every thought is wandering astray, 

One word from thee will brighten all the air 
And lead my feet along the loveward way. 



16 



RECONCILED 

We sometimes grudge the hours of rest, 
Our minds too feverish for sleep ; 

And toss upon our beds, distressed 
That we the daytime may not keep. 

There are so many things to do, 
So many things must still be seen, 

And day's swift moments are too few 
For idle night to intervene. 

But slowly, now, through every limb 
There creeps a grateful weariness, 

And gradually the mind grows dim, 
The heavy eyelids downward press. 

How sweet the dreamland where we go, 
The long night that before us lies ! 

Ah ! welcome Death ! If only so 

Thy cool soft fingers close mine eyes ! 



*7 



HYPNOSIS 

I love the little, swift, tempestuous brook, 

Whose bubbling waters, cool and fresh and 

sweet, 
Invite the thirsty wanderer's weary feet 

To where the tall trees make a shady nook. 

I love to lie there in the pleasant shade 

And watch the changing waters glide and gleam, 
Until the living world becomes a dream, 

And I myself into a dream am made. 



18 



DEFERRED 

Each day I Ve worn a smile to hide 
Suspense and pain thine absence made, 

Till now my smiles have slowly died, 
As garments too long used must fade. 

And though thou 'rt come again and brought 
Relief from all those haunting fears, 

To tell the joy I feel I Ve naught, 
O dearest one, but sobs and tears. 



19 



PROMPTINGS 

For me the sunbeams glance and glow, 
And soft winds breathe. On me all day 

The thriftless happy birds bestow 
Their lavish carols, blithe and gay. 

For me with fresher beauty bloom 

The flowers, and shed their faint perfume. 

So sweet are night, noon, eve and morn, 
My happy heart is like to break 

If from its joy there be not born 
A tender love for thy dear sake. 

As nature showers her gifts on me 

So let me shower my love on thee. 



20 



UNCONSCIOUS WORTH 

To L. D. S. 

The sun one day looked down upon the earth 
And filled it with a light so gold and rare, 
Each living thing awoke and all the air- 
Grew musical with sweet content and mirth ; 
And forest trees and tiny plants gave birth 
To tender leaves and fragrant blossoms fair. 
But though the sun shed beauty everywhere 
'T was all unmindful of its own great worth. 

So thou, dear one, unconscious of thy power, 
Called forth the good that lay within each heart ; 
And oft thy gentle spirit's kindly rays — 
Like sunshine falling on the night-chilled flower — 
Have made love bloom and tender impulse start 
When life seemed dark through all its hope- 
less days. 



21 



MOTHER MARY 

The Mother Mary sat beside 
The manger, rough and bare, 

And watched with happiness and pride 
The infant sleeping there. 

All memory of her pain was past; 

A new joy had begun. 
Her mother-love would fain forecast 

The glory of her son : — 

Her son who was to be a king ! 

A king with wealth and power. 
She knew not that the years would bring 

That last dark awful hour. 

Like Mary every mother turns 

Her eager tender eyes 
Upon her own dear child and yearns 

That he to fame may rise. 

But, oh, if she perchance could see 

The hatred and the scorn, 
The long-borne bitter agony, 

The hero's crown of thorn ! 



22 



REST 

With full content my tranquil heart is blessed 
As underneath the peaceful trees I lie. 
Sweet lulling sounds — the wind's low rhythmic 
sigh, 

The bird's glad singing, clear and unrepressed, 

The anxious hum of bees as fearful lest 

They miss one flower — like some soft lullaby 
Have filled my soul with peace ; and ear and eye 

And heart and mind are gently soothed to rest. 

Dear love, my days were long and sad till thou 
Didst make the world seem fair. But well I 
know 

That those remembered griefs, which once did bow 
My soul, this happy restfulness bestow. 

In truth, how could I feel this gladness now 
Had I not known the bitterness of woe ? 



23 



THE BEECH TREE 

The solitary beech stands dark and bare 

Against the winter sky. Rough winds have torn 
Its leaves away ; and now it seems to mourn 

The cruel loss of all that made it fair. 

When clothed in its full green 't was wont to share 
Its sheltered peace; birds* fragile nests were 

borne 
Amid its leafy boughs, and many a worn 

Sad soul beneath its shade dismissed his care. 

My loveless life once seemed thus bare and stern 
Till fresh, unhoped-for hopes changed every 
part: 

For now I love and know love's sweet return, 
And now I feel life's quickening influence start 

Like leaves in spring ; and every day I yearn 
To shed my gladness o'er some other heart. 



24 



UNCHANGED 

Once more beside thy shore I stand, 

My own St. Johns, 
And every tree through all the land — 

Like one who dons 
His richest garb wherein to greet 

The honored guest — 
In bright array and fragrance sweet 

Is newly dressed. 
Though newly dressed the selfsame trees 

I knew last spring — 
Through whose green boughs the selfsame breeze 

Is whispering- 
Are here again to welcome me : 

The slender pine, 
The moss-hung china-berry tree, 

The jasmine vine 
That twines about the old dead fir, 

The orange bloom 
That scents the air when soft winds stir 

Its faint perfume, 
The Spanish-bayonet whose crown 

Too heavy weighs, 
The pampas-grass, now dry and brown, 

That idly sways ; — 
They all are now just as before 

Through many and many a year ; 
And some day I shall come no more, 

But they will still be here. 

25 



A MEMORY 

To L. K. F. 

It is the fairest of October days ; 

Upon the hills the trees are all ablaze 

With red, red-brown and gold ; and left and right 

The valley fields are bathed in purple light. 

The air is filled with Autumn's witching sound : 
The gentle fall of beechnuts on the ground; 
The sharp repeated raps the woodpeckers beat ; 
The rustle of the grass beneath my feet; 

And, merged in one deep rhythmic monotone, 
The hum of bees, the insects' ceaseless drone, 
The far-off songs of birds, and in the leaves 
The wind's low sigh, like one who loves and 
grieves. 

How soft the breeze ! it hardly stirs my hair. 
How warm the sun ! the mantle that I wear 
Is thrown aside. Ah me ! the earth is clad 
In bright unwonted charm — but I am sad. 

For on a day like this you came to me 
Last fall. We stood beneath this very tree. 
I see you still and hear each word you said, 
But now I stand alone — and you are dead. 



26 



HEREAFTER 

Should'st thou still live, beloved, and I die, 
I pray that hopeless sorrow may not press 
Too long and heavily. In thy distress, 

Let not thy grief-enshrouded heart deny 

The words of solace that may soothe its sigh. 
Draw not apart from those whose tenderness 
And sympathy would make thy sorrow less, 

But strive to see earth's joys with undimmed eye. 

And some day thou shalt hear a voice and see 
A smile reminding thee, perchance, of mine ; 
And from that voice and smile a love may 
grow 
Again within thy heart. God grant that she 
Who calls it forth may make thy pathway shine 
With joy as great as thou hast made me know. 



27 



INSPIRATION 

Have you not heard the harsh unpleasant tone 
That hands unskilled draw from the violin ? 
Instead of those sweet strains they strive to win 

There comes a cry or rough discordant moan ; 

But when one plays to whom the strings are known, 
A gentle touch will seem to wake within 
Its breast a soul to his own soul akin, 

Till sound and feeling into one are grown. 

Thus, long ago, 't was your dear self who woke 
My slumbering heart to life and love. To none 

Had it responded rightly till you spoke ; 
And then life's subtle music was begun, 

For love had claimed its own and at one stroke 
Had made thy soul and mine to merge in one. 



28 



EUTHANASIA 

In that sweet hour before the end of day, 
Just as the sun in silence steals away, 
It sheds upon the sky and sea and shore 
A radiant light they never knew before. 

And so 't is said that ere the spirit goes 

At end of life, the wearied body knows 

A brief and new-born ease and strength, the while 

The lines of pain become a peaceful smile. 



29 



TELEPATHY 

There are wise men, I know, who teach 

That souls — though far apart — 
With kindred souls may hold some speech. 

To-night, although my lips are dumb, 

I call with all my heart; 
Then why, dear love, do you not come? 



30 



AN IMPRESSION 

Inquiring, wistful eyes that hope somewhere 
To find new happiness, yet fearful lest 
Another sadness rise. A brow distressed 

With thinking oft of days too full of care, 

And marked by cruel lines — but still how fair! 
Wide nostrils that deep breathings of unrest 
Have fashioned so, and pallid lips compressed 

To check a moan — of what unknown despair? 

I know not what upon that face has wrought 
Such grievous marks ; but, underneath its gloom, 

I see the dormant powers of joy, which naught 
But love itself can waken and illume. 

O would, sweet piteous face, I had the might 

To drive away thy gloom and bring the light ! 



3i 



To M. L. K. 

In vain I seek for fitting terms, my dear, 
Wherewith to tell you all the love I feel. 
Alas, the blundering words do but conceal 
The heart's intent. I am like those who hear 
The mind's ethereal music, sweet and clear, 
And yet whose fingers, lacking skill or ease, 
Bring naught but painful discords from the 
keys. 



32 



ACTION 

Beneath the hill there runs a spring 
Whose cooling waters oft give cheer 
To some poor stranger drawing near 

To rest him from his wandering. 

The ceaseless flowing of the stream 
Doth keep its waters clear and cool ; 
'T would soon become a stagnant pool 

Were it to pause to drone and dream. 

So he who spends his every hour 
To dream and feel and not to do, 
Must needs lose force and stagnate too 

In naught but action is there power. 



33 



WHEN TO COME BACK 

My loved ones sat with me outside our door 
Last eve. All bright and calm the river lay, 
Save when some leaping fish with sudden splash 
Made wide dark ripples on the smooth expanse. 
The faint breeze scarcely stirred the tiny isles 
Of hyacinth that floated with the tide, 
Nor seemed to move the sail-boats, far away, 
Of weary fishermen returning home. 
Above the long dark line of oaks and pines 
That marks the farther shore, the sky was tinged 
With purple hues and pink. One star alone 
Through misty clouds shone dimly overhead. 
So peaceful and so silent earth and sky 
And river were, that we grew silent too, 
Submitting heart and mind to nature's mood. 



34 



From out the dreamy realm of formless thought 
Rose memories of you, dear love ; not those 
That fill the heart with pain, but only such 
As make its sadness sweet. Then all at once 
A mocking-bird close by began to sing. 
My soul, I think, was surely never thrilled 
By lovelier music. And whilst thus it sang 
Through all my being rushed the sudden thought — 
I know not why — that you yourself were near. 

The old belief was sweet to me, dear one, 
That you were far away from us, at rest 
Within a happier world. But if in truth 
You can, as some report, come back at times 
To those you love, and share in part their lives, 
O come I pray but as you came last night, 
Come when our minds are full of tranquil thoughts, 
And peace environs us and all our world. 



35 



BECAUSE I LOVE YOU SO 

Because I love you so my glad heart thrilled 
When you confessed your love. What longings 

lay 
Within my soul to make your life a day 

Of happiness. My every thought was filled 

With eager hope that I might grow more skilled 
Each hour to shed new light upon your way, 
Withholding naught that pleasure might con- 
vey — 

E'en yielding life itself, if you so willed. 

Alas, I Ve learned such anxious love doth bring 
Its sadness too. For oft I yearn to find 

Approving looks : uneasy fears upspring 

When I perceive them not, and words unkind, 

Perhaps, I say; and then I grieve to know 

You Ve turned away — because I love you so. 



36 



MOTHER AND CHILD 

My child! How yearns my heart o'er thee, as 
pressed 

To its quick throbs thy fragile form doth lie. 

Wert thou not mine thy helplessness would cry 
For sympathy; but in thy mother's breast 
What fears for thee ! With each new life unrest, 

I know, is born, and ere distress draw nigh 

To thee I long, dear child, to learn how I 
May check its coming or may guard thee best. 

I would that thou could'st have my nature o'er, 
That all thy childish griefs I might divine, 
And make each bliss, that I once longed for, 
thine ; 
But if thy soul be one I ne'er before 
Have known, God grant I love thee all the more, 
For thou may'st have a greater soul than mine. 



37 



THESE APRIL DAYS 

These April days, ah, who can say 

Just what the weather has in store? 

This morning, when with steady pour 
The rain beat down, and skies were gray, 
Ah, who could guess the sun's bright ray 

Would beam before the day was o'er? 
These April days, ah, who can say 

Just what the weather has in store? 

My love is sweet as an April day, 
And though no welcome smile she wore 

When last we met, I '11 try once more — 
This time perhaps she '11 bid me stay. 
These April days, ah, who can say 

Just what the weather has in store? 



38 



THE MOON-BEAM BRIDGE 

O golden moon, as thou dost slowly rise 
Above the beautiful St. Johns, how fair 
Thou art to one who is oppressed by care 

And looks at thee through longing tear-dimmed 
eyes. 

A bridge of gold across the water lies ; 

From thee it stretches firm and smooth to where 
I stand. O would that I might cross, and share 

With thee the glories of thy Paradise ! 

And yet, dear moon, if thou should'st let me in, 
I might not feel the happiness, nor see 

The light and beauty, that I hoped to win. 
Perhaps upon this earth I 'd yearn to be, 

For it, 't is said, though full of pain and sin, 

Is still than thou more fair, when seen from thee. 



39 



THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE 

We started out to find the old school-house, 
The oldest house in Orange Park. At last, 
With limbs that ached from walking through the 

sand, 
We reached the broken gate ; and up the path, 
All overgrown with brambles, briers and weeds, 
We slowly went until we reached the porch. 
All rotted and unsafe we found the floor; 
And fallen limbs from overhanging trees 
Had broken through the porch's rotten roof. 
The roof itself was green with moss and ferns. 
The doors were gone ; the house stood open, free 
To wanderers tame and wild, to man and beast. 
The sun poured through the windows' broken panes 
On fallen plaster littering floor and stairs. 
The straight high mantel-piece that framed the 

wide 
Old-fashioned hearth, alone stood firm and dark — 
With strange suggestions of an old-time cheer. 
Beyond the doorway, in the rear, there spread 
Long level stretches of the stately pines, 
Of burly live-oaks, gray with hanging moss, 
Of bayonetted palms and red-brown fields 
Of wiry grass. The old coquina steps, 
Beneath the doorway's sill, lay overturned — 
Grim monuments of long-departed days. 



40 



A chill depression pained my heart and grew 

More strong as, one by one, there stood revealed 

The signs of desolation and decay. 

And so at last we left the bleak old house ; 

But could not leave, alas, the heavy weight 

Of saddened thought; for in our minds still clung 

The images it had evoked. 

But soon 
A winding in the shady road disclosed 
A gleam of light — the beautiful St. Johns. 
All suddenly it broke upon the sight, 
With miles of water open to the sky 
And flashing back the splendor of the sun. 
It seemed a symbol of eternal years ! 
Just so it must have looked in that far time 
When Indian fishers in their light canoes 
Or Spanish voyagers in high-prowed ships 
Moved up and down its shores. 

Our hearts grew light ; 
We lost the pain man's handiwork had wrought 
And felt the peace unchanging nature gives. 

Note : The school-house above-mentioned was situated 
on the plantation where Harriet Beecher Stowe first re- 
sided in Florida. It was recently burnt to the ground. 



41 



FADING FLOWERS 

Last month the jasmine was in bloom : 
Each blossom, like a golden star, 
Gleamed in the light, and shed afar 

Its sweet and delicate perfume. 

Though jasmine-buds no more delight 

The eye, before me now I see, 

Upon the climbing Cherokee, 
A hundred roses, snowy-white. 

And soon the great magnolia trees 
Among their glossy leaves will bear 
The white and massy blooms that share 

Their heavy odors with the breeze. 

And so, through all the burgeoning year, 
The various flowers shall bloom and fade. 
Oh why was all this beauty made 

When it so soon must disappear? 



42 



IN FLORIDA 

In Florida now shines the sun of spring ; 

And there the roses bloom, the glad birds sing ; 
And there, before my door, the river lies, 
Its bosom glowing in the sunset skies 

Or in the morning sunlight glimmering. 

The breezes stir the wreaths of moss that swing 
From live-oak boughs; and from the tall pines 
fling 
The brown cones down; and sweet the odors 
rise 

In Florida. 

O birds and flowers and trees, around you cling 
What tender memories ! My thoughts now wing 
Themselves to you. Where nothing greets the 

eyes 
Save snow and leafless trees, the chilled heart 
sighs 
For all the light and life the days now bring 
In Florida. 



43 



NOVEMBER 

To stay in doors to-day were best, 
For nature seems to be oppressed 
With melancholy and unrest. 

The sun has ceased to shine. The air 

Is filled with leaves the rough winds tear 

From off the trees — now almost bare. 

Poor trees ! how strange and weak you seem 
Without your leaves. Ah, who would dream 
You once controlled the sun's fierce beam. 

The chilly winds rush by with low 

Sad moans. Perhaps, dear trees, they know — 

And grieve that they must leave you so. 



44 



t.ofci 



A flock of black-birds draws in sight ; 
Their chattering cry is shrill with fright 
Lest evil overtake their flight. 

My own mood, too, is such that less 
Than nature's mourning and distress 
Would fill my soul with heaviness. 

So I will close the door, and here, 
Beside the log's fresh-kindled cheer, 
Will warm my heart and banish fear. 



45 



MY VIOLIN 

My violin, with tender, loving care, 
Is resting near my heart. It seems to share 
Each quickened throb, and as I draw the bow 
Across the trembling strings, they seem to know 
My inmost heart and what lies hidden there : 

My heart through which, (though life seems 

wholly fair), 
There thrills a sadness like some deep despair, 
Which I would fain conceal, but needs must 
show 

My violin. 

I touch the strings ; before I am aware 
They learn my grief, and sad notes fill the air ; 
In melody that seems to overflow 
With tearful tones, they utter all my woe. 
Ah, is it kind with anguish thus to tear 
My violin? 



46 



SPRING 

The Spring has come, and everywhere 
The flowers have bloomed, and trees long bare 
Have put forth leaves, and birds long still 
With raptured notes the woodlands fill. 

O would that thou to me could'st bring 
Such bloom and joy as these, dear Spring; 
That thou could'st make me also long 
To lift my voice once more in song. 



47 



MEMORY 

The dear remembered days — they are not dead ! 

The soul transcends the momentary thought. 
In memory the Past and Present wed, 

And each without its other sinks to naught. 



48 



